


Finally, After All These Lifetimes

by StephirothWasTaken



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, Happy early birthday Noct, We cover a lot of time here, but I'm tired, i'm probably missing some tags, spoilers galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StephirothWasTaken/pseuds/StephirothWasTaken
Summary: The Astrals gifted their most devoted followers with reincarnation so they could live the life they had been denied before the Dawn.And finally, the Astrals have let their Chosen King join them.
Relationships: Aulea Lucis Caelum/Regis Lucis Caelum, Clarus Amicitia & Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Noctis Lucis Caelum & Regis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Finally, After All These Lifetimes

**Author's Note:**

> This is late because I lost huge chunks of edits due to my own forgetfulness and because the Internet decided not to work again.
> 
> I wasn’t going to post this today. It was supposed to go up on Noctis’s birthday, but because it’s so Regis-centric, I decided it was okay to post it today and take my time on a different story for Noctis’s birthday (even though I decided earlier in the year not to worry about posting stuff on the boys’ birthdays anymore).
> 
> Also, you should know I gave the reincarnated characters different names (I have a thing for giving Noctis different names, apparently), but they’re all based on the meanings of their names (except Aulea’s because I have no idea what that name means). I tried not to go for crazy fantasy names, but I honestly should have because it’s Final Fantasy.

Regis sighed as he looked up at the worn statue of Noctis Lucis Caelum, the Chosen King who had purged the Scourge from Eos forever. He sat on a stone bench inside his son’s memorial. His hands ached as he clutched his walking cane, and his empty pain medication bottle felt heavier than it had any right to be in his coat pocket.

The Lucis Caelums were a cursed lineage, doomed to carry out the will of the Astrals even when they have been reincarnated into a whole new lineage. With the Dawn had come the end of the official lineage, and the Astrals had agreed to cease interfering with the affairs of humans because their influence had only led to war after war after war. Still, they had wanted to give their most devout disciples another life, allowing them to live the life they could have had if the Astrals had never allowed the humans access to magic.

Only one of the Lucis Caelums, anyway.

Over the centuries, Regis Lucis Caelum had gotten to meet most of his friends from his first lifetime as the king of a dying nation, but the one he wanted to see the most never came back into his life. He could concede that he was lucky to spend so much time with some of the finest people the world had ever created, but there was one more he had yet to see, one he had failed as a father.

“I’m sorry, my son,” Regis said, in the softer voice of “Roy” in his current life. “There’s so much I should have said to you. Once I woke up in this world and regained my memories, I longed to be with you again, but after all this time it seems the Astrals aren’t intent on ever letting you go.”

Regis chuckled, and he leaned back against the bench. His body felt heavier than it had a moment ago, and his eyes drifted closed.

“I can’t blame them,” he continued. “You always were special. It’s no wonder they Chose you. Still, I can’t help but feel so angry that they would sacrifice you and then never let you return here, not even one time to live the life you should have lived all that time ago. They’ve taken so much from us, Noctis, and they’ve taken so much more from you. It’s not right. It’s not… It’s not...”

Regis’s thoughts wavered, and he felt his heart slow. Fear ripped through him, even though he had done this to himself. He longed to look at his son one more time, but alas, he would have to wait another few years…

* * *

Some of Regis’s memories came back to him as he watched the new kid of the neighborhood swing a bat at the neighborhood bully. One moment, his heart had been racing in his chest out of fear that either of them would attack him next, but then, he watched the new kid’s form as he swung. He had seen that move thousands of times across many centuries, and the first time had been Cor Leonis, a kid so mean he had joined the military at thirteen and had become the king’s personal bodyguard at fifteen.

That fear subsided because he understood the boy, named “Hart” in this life, was a good person, but he had a nasty temper that would go away over time as he regained his old memories.

Cor’s bat collided with the bully’s head, and the poor boy fell to the side without having the chance to even shout.

“Must you show off like that, really?” Regis sighed, and he shook his head in dismay.

“What the hell do you want?” the five-year-old snarled.

Even if the boy was Cor, it was likely he had yet to regain his memories.

“Oh, nothing. I have a feeling we’re going to be good friends, is all.”

“Hart” rolled his eyes, but he left the bully for dead as he stormed away, having gotten the kid to stop picking on him. Regis walked away, smiling as some of his memories returned to him. They were all of him spending time with Cor across many lifetimes, and the friends he had yet to meet remained fuzzy in his head.

Regis was in an unusual situation for him. In most of his other lives, he had been born into good families who never had to worry about money, but this time, he had been born to a family where his parents struggled to survive—or rather his mother did. His father was in prison because of a terrible crime he had committed before he had been born, and his mother worked too many jobs and struggled to make ends meet.

His name was Ryan this time, to his disappointment. It was getting boring going back and forth between the same three names repeatedly: Regis, Roy, and Ryan. Regis was the least common and Ryan the most, but he would have liked to be something different every once in a while.

Clarus came to him a couple years later when he had regained even more of his memories. His legal name was “Cyrus,” which was one of his most common names, and he was Regis’s estranged brother from his father’s exploits. He was much older than Regis at twenty-two, and Regis was only nine.

His mother had not liked him coming around much until he had helped ease their financial burdens. Then, she allowed Regis to stay the night at his house on the weekends. He fought a legal battle to adopt Cor, whose parents were disturbingly absent from his life, because he had always been the baby brother of the group, even in the lifetimes when he had been the oldest of them, and he won with little contest, allowing all three of them to spend most of their free time together.

“Our situations are different this time around, aren’t they?” Clarus said, leaning back on the couch.

Eight-year-old Cor had slumped against Clarus’s side in his seat, and the older man looked down at him with fondness.

Regis, now ten years old, nodded.

“Much harder,” he agreed. “For Cor and me, anyway.”

“I don’t think we’re going to meet Weskham this time,” Clarus said.

“I remember he said something about finding his happiness in his last life.”

“Yeah, and ever since I started gaining my memories back, I’ve had the feeling those were his last goodbyes, like with Cid after the first incarnation. The old man was just done, ready to go home and stay there.”

Regis hummed, and he nodded, chest feeling warm that two of his friends had departed feeling fulfilled. Part of him worried he should have felt sad, but after experiencing so many deaths himself, it was not quite the burden it had once been.

Years later, it was no surprise when his mother had announced to him over dinner that he was to be an older brother in a few months. She had fallen for a man she had met at work, and thanks to Clarus easing much of the financial pressure, she had more time to date again.

Regis was not too fond of the man himself, but he had to admit it could have just been because he had spent so much of his life living only with his mother. He might have been many centuries old, but he still found himself vulnerable to certain childish emotions. Having a little brother sounded fun with there being so many years between them.

It was strange when his mother told him of a dream she had of a boy named “Ciel.” In all of his other incarnations, that was how his parents always came up with names for them: they would have a dream of them and then forget everything but the name.

Regis looked up the name, and he ran all the way to Clarus’s and Cor’s house to tell them about it.

“It means ‘sky,’ Clare!” Regis exclaimed, heart pounding in his chest from both his excitement and the run. “Don’t you see what this means!”

“Reggie,” Clarus said after spitting his toothpaste into the sink, “don’t get your hopes up too much, all right? We don’t know if it’s someone we’ve ever met.”

“And your last name meant ‘sky,’” Cor said around a mouthful of sugary cereal. “It could be your father as far as we know.”

Regis scoffed, and he plopped himself in a chair at the kitchen table.

“Why on Eos would the Astrals send my old man back?”

“You said you bitched them out in your last life, right?” Clarus said as he joined Regis at the table, and he smirked. “Maybe it’s a punishment or something. I don’t know.”

“Just don’t get worked up over it yet, all right?” Cor suggested. “We don’t know what’s going on.”

Regis huffed, but he brooded as he watched cartoons on the TV across the room.

When the child came, his mother’s boyfriend messaged him to let him know there had been complications, but both the baby and his mother were all right. Regis went to Clarus’s house to wait for his mother and little brother to return home, and his two friends distracted him from his worries until they returned home.

Regis sprinted to the house faster than he ever had in his life, and when he got to see the tiny child laying in his crib, Regis broke down in tears.

“Ciel” looked the same as his Noctis had the day he had been born: adorable nose, beautiful blue eyes, round little face, and wild black hair. His mother ushered him out of the room to keep him from waking the baby, and then he sent angry messages to his friends, telling them he had been right, that the Astrals had finally brought his darling boy back to him.

Cor and Clarus’s eyebrows shot up when Regis came over with hundreds of pictures of “Ciel.” He did look exactly as they remembered Noctis had looked.

“Well, the chances are looking pretty good, Reggie,” Clarus said, sounding skeptical despite the clear evidence.

“When he regains his memories, we’ll know for sure,” Cor said.

Over the next couple of years, even with him being swamped with university preparation, Regis was the most doting older brother. He changed his diapers, gave him baths, and fought a pout when their mother decided she wanted to spend some time with him herself. The only thing that kept him from failing his schooling was the amount of times he had learned each subject in his previous lives.

The child’s mannerisms were the same as Noctis’s had been: the way he wrinkled his brow when he concentrated, the way he pouted when he had to eat his vegetables, the way he yelled out his frustrations, the way he giggled at every silly thing, the way he screamed at bugs, so many things that Regis noticed about him.

It all only solidified his beliefs that “Ciel” was his Noctis.

Until the boy never regained his memories.

They always came by the age of ten, if they failed to meet their friends before that time period. Regis told him about the Chosen King and his family and friends, watching his eyes for a spark of recognition, but they never came. While “Ciel” enjoyed the stories, he never spoke of them as if he had lived through that time period, never corrected a misremembered fact, added no missing details.

When he was ten, Regis conceded that “Ciel” was just Ciel, his little brother who looked just like the son he had had centuries ago.

Regis was heartbroken when he realized that it was all just a coincidence. He looked like he had in every lifetime, and because they had the same mother, he was more likely to resemble him. Still, for a few years, he could not look at Ciel without his chest aching, and he found more and more excuses to spend less time with his little brother.

“The kid thinks you hate him,” Clarus said to him while they shared lunch together at the same law firm.

“I don’t hate him.”

“I know you don’t, but he doesn’t.”

Regis only sighed.

“You need to talk to him. It’s not his fault he isn’t Noct.”

“I know it’s not. I just need time to separate that idea from him.”

“It’s been two years. He’s entering one of the most confusing stages of his life, thinking his big brother hates him. Talk to him, at least.”

Regis did. He pulled Ciel back into his life, and he endured the pains in his chest as he watched his younger brother develop into an energetic version of his Noctis, confusing him even more. His radiant smile kept him from distancing himself from the boy again, but it felt like a special kind of torture.

Regis was only a few months shy of thirty when he met his beloved Aulea, or “Candace” in their current lifetime. It was rare for them to meet so late in life, but he considered it part of his punishment for the transgressions he had made in his previous life. When she met Ciel, who was now fourteen, Aulea burst into tears, confusing the hell out of the young man as she gazed into those beautiful eyes that looked just like hers.

His heart broke all over again as he told her the truth of the situation. She insisted that he was wrong, that Ciel was the boy she had never gotten to meet before her untimely death, but she at least toned down the fawning over him, not wanting to overwhelm the boy. As time went on, she still insisted on doting on him, and Ciel was more than happy to let her.

To everyone’s surprise, Ciel became fast friends with Gladiolus, Ignis, and Prompto, the three people who had been part of Noctis’s retinue. He knew them all as “Brand,” “Conleth,” and “Silver,” which was a little too on the nose for Regis’s tastes. Ignis had already figured out that Ciel had none of Noctis’s memories, and he was the only thing standing in the way of them confusing the boy again.

They still treated him like Noctis, and the boy fell into the role without even meaning to. He enjoyed all the same things Noctis used to: comics, junk food, and video games. It had been a long time since Prompto had sat down and enjoyed video games without crying, but with Ciel, he could enjoy them again, even if they had changed drastically since the last time he had played.

When they came across Iris, bearing her original name, she developed an immediate crush on him, and if she had not been ten years younger than him, she might have had a chance with him.

Ciel turned to him when it was time for him to decide his future. They waited until their parents fell asleep while watching some new TV show, and they went out onto the balcony to watch vehicles pass by while they talked.

“You’ve been a lot happier since you found Candace,” Ciel said to him, voice soft, but there was a hint of sadness in his tone. “I’m really glad you found her.”

“Mom still thinks I married her too soon,” Regis said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but you’re happy. That’s all that matters, right?”

“Are you happy? You’re looking pretty serious over there.”

“I am. I mean, how could I not be?”

“But?”

Ciel frowned, and he shifted his eyes away. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

“I don’t know. I mean, I have so many supportive people in my life. It’s great.”

“What’s on your mind, Ciel?”

The boy shrugged again, but there was a wobble to his chin that brought pangs to Regis’s chest.

“You’re disappointed in me, aren’t you?”

Regis went to Ciel, and he placed his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders. Part of him had been worrying that he would catch on to the sadness he felt over Noctis, and he had been right to worry.

“Never, Ciel. You’ve worked so hard. I’m proud of you for how far you’ve gotten.”

“If that’s true, then why—” Ciel sniffled, bringing more pangs to Regis’s chest. “Why don’t you look at me, anymore? You were so happy when I was little. Then something happened. I don’t know what, but things are different between us now.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way, little brother. You mean the world to me, and I am proud of you.”

Ciel struggled to hold back his tears, eyes staring at his shirt as he said nothing. Regis leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and he pulled him into a hug.

“Candace and I have been thinking about taking a vacation to Tenebrae,” Regis said. “You can come with us, explore the town a little—whatever you want to do.”

“Wouldn’t I be intruding on your time together?”

“No, we love you, Ciel. We can take a break from the city and spend time together. It’ll be nice.”

Ciel pulled away, eyebrows pinched together.

“I can’t afford a vacation out of the city right now.”

“And why not? You said you wanted to take a break from school for a while to figure out what you want to do.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have enough money saved up.”

“I’m not asking you to pay for it.”

“I can’t ask you to do that for me, Ryan. You already do so much for us around here.”

“No, it can be my graduation gift to you. You deserve it for working so hard.”

It took some convincing to get Ciel to agree to come on a trip with them, but he agreed to it. From then on, Regis knew he needed to try harder to separate the memories of his son from Ciel.

Regis had made it a point to go to Tenebrae at least once in every lifetime. He usually ran into Ravus, the prince of Tenebrae in his first life, and the young man was as lonely as he had been back then. Although he had been smiling more these last few times.

Ciel could not hide his smile as he looked around the country. It was a beautiful, mountainous place, and Regis made it a point to pay for trips on the train system, which allowed them to see the best of it. Their destination was the Ulwaat region, where the restored Fenestala Manor was open for business as a museum of pre-Dawn relics.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Regis asked.

“Hm? Yeah, it’s so beautiful out here.”

Regis reached out to brush black locks out of his face, and the young man was so focused on the view outside that he did not even flinch. Aulea sat beside him, smiling as she watched Ciel.

The hotel they had chosen was in the city around Fenestala Manor, and as promised, they got two separate rooms to give each other some privacy. Ciel was free to explore the city as long as he sent messages to Aulea and Regis every couple of hours to assure them he was all right. On the first night, he was reluctant to go anywhere on his own, but by the second, he took a walk around the city. When he came back, he told them all about the arcade he had discovered.

On the third, Ciel joined them for dinner at the hotel’s restaurant, and he told them about a strange man he had met. He said he was kind and helpful, and he knew so much about the history of Old Tenebrae. It surprised him when he called the man, “Lloyd,” one of Ravus’s names through their lifetimes.

“He asked me to see him again tomorrow,” Ciel said in between bites of new favorite chickatrice tenders. “He said he was going to bring his sister to look around Fenestala Manor, and he wanted me to come along. He said you guys should come, too! Lloyd knows so much stuff! I bet it’ll be really cool to look around that old place with him!”

They met outside Fenestala Manor, where a young woman waited to be the tour guide for a large group of people. Ciel waved at a rather tall man with blue eyes, silver-white hair, and a stunning smile that almost convinced them he was just a man named Lloyd instead of Ravus. Trailing behind the man was a blonde woman with blue eyes and a soft smile that brightened her entire face.

The woman looked just like Lunafreya, the woman who the Astrals had sacrificed to save the world, Ravus’s younger sister, and the love of Noctis’s life.

Ciel was in love the moment “Lloyd” introduced him to “Monday,” cheeks turning red, and he stuttered as he greeted her. His eyes widened in fear when “Lloyd” pulled Aulea and Regis to the side to speak with them out of earshot from everyone else.

“It’s shocking, I know,” Ravus said. “I still can’t believe it when I see her sometimes. I call her my sister by accident all the time.”

“She’s not your sister?” Regis asked.

“No, she’s my cousin, but I spent so much time with her growing up that she may as well be.”

“Has any of her memories returned to her?” Aulea asked.

Ravus’s eyes turned sad, reminding them of the man they were used to seeing.

“I’m afraid not.”

“It’s the same with Ciel,” Regis explained. “I was so convinced that he was my Noctis, but then he regained none of his memories.”

“You don’t think he could be Noctis?”

“How could he be? The rest of us remember all of our previous lives.”

“I believe they are Lunafreya and Noctis, even without the memories. None of us can contact the Astrals anymore, so who is to say the rules for reincarnation aren’t different for those who have already reached the Afterlife?”

“And Reggie, look!” Aulea added. “They like each other. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Regis looked at Ciel and Monday. They sat close to each other on a bench, and they spoke with embarrassed smiles on their faces. Monday led the conversation just like Lunafreya used to when speaking with the painfully shy Noctis.

How Regis had let himself even consider that the Astrals had not finally fulfilled his wish one time, he would never understand. It was so obvious to him now. All this time he had thought Ciel’s resemblance to his son had been a mere coincidence, just because he had none of his memories.

During the rest of the trip, Regis saw his little brother just the same as he had when he had been born. It was unfair that he could not treat him the same way he had all those centuries ago, like he could his friends and Noctis’s friends, but he could still form a close bond with him, something he had never gotten the chance to do back then.

Except Noctis wanted to be independent from him.

When it was time for them to leave, Noctis asked if it was possible for him to stay in Tenebrae. If it had not been for Aulea, he would have told him it was a complete impossibility and told him he had to stay in Insomnia forever, but instead, he promised to help him every step of the way. They researched schools in Tenebrae, and he forced himself to remain silent as he watched the boy’s face turn pink every time he read a message from Lunafreya.

“Darling, he’ll be fine,” Aulea said as they watched Noctis walk into the airport, trailing two full suitcases behind him.

Regis did not mention that she had not been alive when he had sent Noctis away to Altissia all those centuries ago. At least, the Astrals did not intend on sacrificing them this time.

Noctis never broke contact with Aulea and Regis, sending them pictures, messages, and the occasional old-fashioned letter. He was happier in Tenebrae than he had been in Insomnia, which made everyone worry that he would never return to see them. It was an unfounded worry because he always came to visit them during school vacations and for his parents’ funerals, but Regis could not let go of the feeling that he would never see him again, now that he knew who he was.

“It’s so peaceful in Tenebrae,” Noctis said when they asked him how he felt about living there. “I feel like I can hear myself think.”

Regis thought he understood that. There were so many people and vehicles rushing here and there in Insomnia, while most places in Tenebrae took their time to enjoy things. Still, their worries worsened when Noctis bragged to everyone about taking a job in Tenebrae.

Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto did not hesitate to pack up their families and travel all the way to be closer to him. Regis had never realized that none of them had given up the belief that Ciel was Noctis, but he was glad the boy would not be over there alone. Although he worried that he would feel smothered.

Regis debated whether he should pack up his family and live over there, but his home had always been Insomnia. Spending centuries there should have made him sick of the place, but he had developed a strong attachment to it. While he could part from it for a week or two, taking up permanent residence outside of it gave him anxiety attacks.

It was Clarus and Cor who convinced him to leave. They worked together to find new homes and jobs in Tenebrae. The wives, except for Aulea, were difficult to convince to go with them, but after taking a look at the safety ratings of the city, they caved in.

Noctis was happy to have them closer to him, to Regis’s surprise. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with us coming over here?” Regis asked as they had lunch at Noctis’s favorite cafe.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Noctis assured him with a laugh. “It’s so much better with everyone around. Lloyd has been happier, too. He likes having people over all the time.”

Regis doubted Ravus was happy about having so many guests around, but he did seem happier than he used to be.

It was a surprise to no one when Noctis announced his engagement to Lunafreya. Regis felt honored when Noctis asked him to be the best man, but he turned the position down to avoid Ignis’s deadly glare. He would find out later that Prompto had done the same when Noctis asked him and for the same reason.

Ignis thrived on helping Lunafreya and Noctis plan everything. Everyone chipped in money to grant the couple the wedding of their dreams, and there was not a single dry eye during the ceremony. It felt good just to watch Noctis be happy, and for the first time in all of his lifetimes, Regis felt the warmth of completeness in his heart.

Just a year later, that warmth would ebb away.

Despite all the amazing medical advancements made throughout the centuries, Lunafreya died during childbirth. What should have brought Noctis unending joy only brought him despair. No one blamed him when Noctis could not look after their daughter for a few days. In between nervous breakdowns and general bouts of “numbness, he struggled to care for their child, and everyone was kind to him, even Clarus and Gladio, who believed duty was everything. No one wanted him to build any resentment toward the poor child. Regis allowed him to stay his home. Aulea made sure he ate and bathed himself. Ravus cared for his “cousin” to help him cope with the loss of his sister for the second time.

Every time Regis checked on Ravus, he worried that he would find the man dead, but Regis never gave him enough credit when it counted most. He was probably the strongest of them after so many centuries of suffering the loss of the most important person in the world to him.

“I’m sorry,” Noctis said over breakfast, which he had pushed to the side after only a few small bites. “It’s selfish of me to let everyone else take care of my daughter while I’m wallowing in self-pity.”

Regis’s chest squeezed painfully as tears streamed down Noctis’s cheeks. He reached out and grabbed Noctis’s hand—his disturbingly thin hand—between his own.

“Ciel, you need time to greave,” he assured him. “It’s okay to take care of yourself. If you take care of yourself, then you can be a better father.”

“Why don’t you try takin care of her today?” Aulea suggested. “Tell her how you feel. It might help you.”

Noctis went to his daughter later that night, and he held her in her arms and cried over the loss of his beloved wife, the loss of someone who would have been a wonderful mother, and the time he would never get back with his child. From then on, he was most doting father imaginable, and he spent as much time with her as possible.

Everyone felt Lunafreya’s absence deeply over the next few years. Ravus lost the uncharacteristic smiles, but there were glimpses of it every time he got to spend time with his little cousin. Noctis withdrew into himself whenever he thought no one was looking. Ignis and Prompto annoyed their wives with how much they doted on Noctis and his little girl.

“I keep having these weird dreams,” Noctis once told him out of the blue.

Aulea had invited him over for dinner, and both the ladies had gone to bed while the gentlemen stayed up to talk over a late night drink.

“Good or bad dreams?” Regis asked.

“I don’t know. All I can ever remember is someone telling me to come home. Normally this stuff isn’t interesting, I know, but it just…feels weird. I can’t get it out of my head.”

Regis’s heart hammered in his chest, and he fought the urge to whisk Noctis away and never let him leave his room. A dream like that could be anything but good for the beloved Chosen King. The Astrals were calling him home, but he was only thirty. That was far too early. He had not even gotten to live a full life yet.

When they went to bed, Regis went to bed, and he shook Aulea awake to tell her. She rushed out of the room to check on Noctis, only to be shooed out of the room for bothering him in his sleep.

Regis called everyone to tell them about Noctis’s ominous dream, and from then on, everyone visited Noctis and his daughter more—to the point that he got worried about them.

It turned out it was not Noctis who was called to the Afterlife first but Cor. There was an accident, and Cor got injured protecting his grandson. His final words were something along the lines of “It’s so beautiful here.”

Regis realized that the Astrals were calling them all home, and he just hoped they would take many for decades to take Noctis because the boy deserved a long life at least once.

Another few years later, Aulea passed away peacefully in her sleep from an aneurism. Noctis took her death harder than he had his birth mother’s death because they had been so close since the day they had met. He and his children invited Regis to visit with them more often because he knew an empty house would only hurt even more.

Being the oldest of them all, it was no surprise when Clarus’s heart gave out. Gladiolus sobbed for the first time in centuries, knowing that his father would never be reincarnated again. Iris, who had moved to Tenebrae the moment she turned eighteen, held his hand as tears streamed down her own face.

Regis prayed he would be next because attending his son’s funeral was a special hell he had experienced in other lifetimes and never wanted to experience again, but instead, it was Noctis. He died in an accident leaving work. The Astrals had allowed him to reach the age of fifty this time.

It was no surprise that the Astrals would punish Regis one last time.

While “Ciel” was a nobody in this life, Gladio, Ignis, Iris, Prompto, Noctis’s daughter, and Regis covered him in all the flowers they could find to show he was well-loved. 

Regis would not remember his last moments on Eos. He would sit down to enjoy an old book, and then he would find himself in a strange place.

The room was brightly lit. His eyes followed a long staircase covered in a red rug, and at the top he found a young, black-haired man sitting on top of a too-familiar throne. He wore an old military uniform that only monarch’s wore, and his hair was long and covered his eyes. Next to him sat a beautiful blonde woman wearing a white wedding dress. Her hair was in an intricate updo.

The young man stood from the throne, and he stepped down the steps until he stood in front of Regis. He gave him a radiant smile.

"Welcome home, Dad.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t get very emotional when I read stories or write my own, but I’ll admit to getting a little misty-eyed here. It’s probably a sign I’ve spent too much time with these characters. haha
> 
> I went for a japanese style of storytelling here. I’m not saying I did it justice, but that’s what I was attempting. There’s no conflict, but there’s a “twist.” It’s called “kishoutenketsu,” if you’re curious about it. I don’t feel confident with this style of writing, but I’m fairly happy with this story. It took me a few too many rewrites to like it, though, which is why I could not update any of my existing projects this week. I was spending too much time on this one.
> 
> My endings also tend to be rushed. That’s something that I know I need to work on.
> 
> I’m not convinced that weddings will be a thing hundreds of years from now (granted, humanity might not be a thing by then), but it’s a fantasy world. Anything goes in these sorts of things.
> 
> I try not to ramble in the notes, but it usually happens, anyway. It's especially bad this time because I'm tired.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are greatly encouraged, whether you enjoyed this or not!


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